Tristitiae
Tristitiae
O well for him who lives at ease
With garnered1 gold in wide domain2,
Nor heeds3 the splashing of the rain,
The crashing down of forest trees.
O well for him who ne'er hath known
The travail4 of the hungry years,
A father grey with grief and tears,
A mother weeping all alone.
But well for him whose foot hath trod
The weary road of toil5 and strife6,
Yet from the sorrows of his life.
Builds ladders to be nearer God.
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